


Wring Me Out

by Maisie_top_trash



Series: Unseen - Fear Will Lose [26]
Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, Family, Grief, M/M, Mourning, OCD, Panic Attacks, Schizoaffective Disorder, Therapy, mental health
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 05:09:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11684751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maisie_top_trash/pseuds/Maisie_top_trash
Summary: Unseen Fear Will Lose is a series of single chapter stories showing unseen scenes from the same universe as my main story, Fear Will Lose. In order to fully enjoy these extra bits, I recommend you go and read that first.Fear Will LoseThis snippet takes place during a therapy session between Dr Wakefield and Tyler. It's after Josh's death and once he's living with Todd and William, however before Another Day Without You.





	Wring Me Out

**Author's Note:**

> Somebody requested a therapy one but I can't remember who... if that was you then comment below and I'll gift it to you x

As Tyler surveyed the view from the window in the waiting room from a chair slouched, he noted that the trees in the garden about 3 houses away had been cut since his last visit. He didn't particularly mind, it was just one of the many small details that had become in engraved in his mind over the years of attending therapy in the building. Everything was familiar, the pamphlets on the table, the dramatic and enticing painting of a ship sailing a stormy sea, an aloe Vera plant growing towards the light.

Another patient entered the room and made nervous eye contact with Tyler before quickly looking back down at his feet and sitting the furthest away from him that he possibly could. Tyler was more than comfortable in the therapist's waiting room, but could tell that his new companion was relatively new and still embarrassed.

Back when he was a young adult spending literally hours in waiting rooms every single week with his mom, they had filled the time by playing games such as guessing why patients were there. It may have been a little wrong but it passed the time and actually became quite fun over time.

Tyler's favourite time to play was when he had to go for biweekly weigh ins and blood tests at the doctor's office when he was 21/22 ish. There was always a diverse range of people; some were obvious, a nasty cough, a hurt ankle, a rash. Others were more of a challenge, a stomach ache, diabetes, asthma. It could be difficult but the signs were there, and when you spent as much time as Tyler did observing people, you quickly learnt.

So Tyler looked over at the stranger on the other side of the therapist's waiting room and tried to take a guess. For obvious reasons psych diagnoses were harder to guess than physical, but it was still possible. The man was older than Tyler but not by much, maybe 35, 36. And he was fairly good looking, Tyler couldn't help noticing. As Tyler watched him longer, he saw that the man's leg bounced - a sign of nervousness.

He was anxious - nails bitten short, ever so slightly sat forwards off the back of the seat, the wavering breath ever so slightly noticeable above the hum of the building. But there was something more to it, men didn't see therapists for anxiety, they just didn't. Tyler began to go through and then dismiss the most common male issues, stress, anger, substance addiction, body image issues or eating iss-

"Tyler!" A call interrupted his thoughts and he turned to grin at Jacob, ignoring the complete violation of the confidentiality rules. The autistic 19 year old who always proceeded him on a Thursday was walking out of Dr Wakefield's office with his mom, frantically waving at Tyler.  
"Hey man," he waved back, "how are you?"  
"Good but tired,"  
"Well go home and get some rest, I'll see you next time, have a good week,"  
"Bye," Jacob said, then left the room.  
"Thank you Tyler, have a good session," his mother told him before following after her son.

Tyler sat back in his seat again but didn't get too comfortable, knowing it wouldn't take Dr Wakefield long to write up Jacob's final notes then call him through. Everything about therapy was repetitive and routine and predictable, except the actual therapy. Tyler had no idea whether it was going to be one of those sessions where he and Dr Wakefield just had a chat about the most recent Cavs game or if it was going to be one that reduced him to a panicking blubbering mess. And honestly Tyler didn't know which one he wanted.

"My 5 o'clock?" Dr Wakefield said, entering the waiting area and smiling at Tyler as he picked up his jacket and followed him down the hall to his office.

"Want a fiddle?" The doctor asked as he held the door open for him and he sat down in his seat.  
"Please," Tyler answered, so the man took out a box from the mahogany cupboard against the wall and held it out in front of Tyler. The box was filled with various stress relieving balls and toys and things to fiddle with.  
"You do spoil me," he smiled as he pulled out an elastic band.  
"It's almost Christmas, take 2 bands if you want,"  
"It's October," Tyler laughed as he took a second, then the man put the container away and sat down opposite him.

"So, Tyler, how are you?" He asked as he settled in the chair.  
"I'm well thank you, this week's been a good one,"  
"Good to hear, what success can you highlight?"  
"Well I accidentally dropped a jar of pasta sauce and I didn't cry," Tyler told him with a small laugh. Dr Wakefield put his notepad aside and leaned across to high five Tyler then sat back down with a laugh.  
"We laugh but in all seriousness, well done,"  
"Thank you,"

"And how did helping out at William's friend's birthday meal go?"  
"Yeah really really well. Had to take a moment to calm down after the massive sparkler in his cake, but otherwise it went without a hitch. I was fine with the wrapping paper and eating in public and talking to the waitress as well as the responsibility, and I let his friend's mom hug me like 5 times to say thank you for being a chaperone with her,"  
"So overall enjoyable?"  
"Absolutely, and my boy was having the time of his life."  
"Your boy?" Dr Wakefield remarked with a smile.  
"Yeah, I'm his dad." He said with a grin.

"An amazing one too. We uh, last week we spoke about your concerns regarding the fact William had started calling you Tyler rather than Papa Ty, have you found a way to bring it up with him?"  
"He told me that apparently Papa is too babyish for an 8 year old,"  
"Oh yeah," Dr Wakefield smiled doubtfully.  
"But we're gonna swap to Pop, according to him that's more grown up."  
"Well whatever his majesty prefers." He laughed. "No I know he's a good kid, and I'm glad you've sorted it out."  
"So am I,"  
"And well done for communicating with him, you've come a long long way in that sense."  
"Thank you,"

"So is there anything in particular that you would like to talk about or work on in today's session?" The elder man asked.  
"No nothing specific,"  
"I take it you haven't had any psychotic episodes since we last saw each other?"  
"No,"  
"How have the compulsions been?"  
"Monday was shaky, the rest of the week was either nothing or really mild."

"Talk me through Monday,"  
"Started like normal, breakfast with Todd and William was uneventful, Todd went to work and I took William to school and went and taught my classes like normal. Then Todd called me during my lunch break and I got stuck repeating."  
"What word?"  
"Think it was 'because', nothing significant." Tyler told him.  
"You get stuck on that one quite a lot. How many times did you say it?"  
"12 times before Todd told me to calm down, then still another 8 before I could move on."  
"And what was going through your head at the time?"  
"This is super dumb."  
"So why keep going?" Dr Wakefield asked.  
"Habit mostly, then the background fear of Zack getting hurt if I stop."  
"Zack, okay," he nodded as he took notes.

"After the repeating, what happened?"  
"Todd stayed on the phone to me for the rest of lunch and I was repeating a lot and working myself up over it, getting frustrated."  
"At OCD or at yourself?"  
"Myself for obeying it,"  
"Right, and how did Todd support you?"  
"Just telling me to calm down and that it was okay and he could wait if I needed him to and yeah, not as good a-" Tyler said before suddenly cutting himself off, realising what he was saying.  
"Tyler finish the sentence, not as good as,"  
"My parents,"  
"Were you really going to say that?"  
"No, but doc don't make me say it, it's awful,"  
"It's confidential, and I think it needs to be said. So Tyler, when you're ready, finish the sentence."  
"He's not, he's not as good as Josh."  
"Okay well done, snap a band against yourself if you need to." Dr Wakefield said and Tyler immediately began pinging both elastic bands against the scarred skin on the inside of his wrist aggressively.

"I want to explore that a bit Tyler, but obviously that's going to be quite difficult for you. The normal agreement stands, I need you to push yourself to be as open as you can and to stretch to the edge of your limit, but if it's going too far then you can tap out. Let's try and make some progress today,"  
"Mmm," he hummed as he snapped the bands again and again.

"Let's begin with literally what you said. Josh was better at supporting you during your speech repetitions than Todd is. Agree?"  
"Uh huh," Tyler said quietly, not looking up.  
"So what did Josh do that Todd doesn't?"  
"Dunno," he murmured, but Dr Wakefield didn't reply, simply waited for Tyler to fill the silence.

"He just, just helped I guess,"  
"And Todd doesn't help?"  
"He tries," Tyler said as he snapped the bands.  
"But it's not as effective as Josh?"  
"I'll talk about Todd, but please, not Josh,"  
"It's been 8 years Tyler," Dr Wakefield told him.  
"8 years 9 months and 17 days, 3214 days."  
"Don't. You don't need to count,"  
"Yes I do," he said firmly.  
"Why do you?"  
"I just do okay?!"

Dr Wakefield sat across from Tyler, watching as he pulled the bands as far as they would stretch, then let them snap against his inner wrist. The skin was red raw and Tyler felt it sting but had no intentions of stopping. It was keeping him grounded, keeping him safe.

He didn't want to talk about Josh, that always meant it would be a crying panicky session and Tyler wanted to be okay when he got home in time for dinner with Todd and William. If he didn't think about Josh, he could pretend it didn't happen, pretend he wasn't gone, pretend there wasn't an emptiness in his heart that was papered over with exaggerated happiness but was there nevertheless.

"Tyler why do you count the days?"  
"I'm tapping out doc, not doing this." Tyler decided, shaking his head.  
"Okay," Dr Wakefield accepted with a nod, setting his notepad and pen aside and standing up. Tyler watched as the man walked over to his desk to the side of where their chairs were, then picked up his cup of coffee. He took a sip as he leant against the desk casually.

"Eugh, cold coffee. I'll drink many things but cold coffee is my limit." He muttered as he pulled a disgusted face and peered at the liquid. "If I made another pot would you have any? Or should I just get the one cup for myself?"  
"Cup," Tyler whispered, still sat in his comfortable chair pinging his bands.  
"Alright, you want a water? Or we just got some new mint hot chocolate in. I haven't tried it yet but Jacob gave it the thumbs up, and you know he's a tricky one to please."  
"I'm fine,"  
"One water coming up, rather you left it than didn't have it in the first place. Oh and Tyler, take this time to have a little stroll please." Dr Wakefield said before walking out of the door to make drinks in the kitchen at the end of the corridor.

Tyler went back to staring blankly at the cushioning on the doc's arm chair across from him whilst flicking the bands against his wrist. It was staggering how much the mention of his late husband could so significantly impact his mindset. But at the same time it didn't surprise Tyler, Josh was his whole world. Was. He told himself that it should be past tense, that now his whole world was Todd and William. But in his heart he knew it wasn't true.

He sighed to himself, burying his face in hands momentarily before standing up. With his hands crossed on top of his head, he paced along one side of the huge office.

Tyler attempted to distract himself by admiring the interior design, which he was admittedly a fan of when he wasn't thinking about his dead husband. The old man had been in the business for so long that he had managed to work his way up and now possessed the largest room in the outpatient hospital. Unlike other dingy box rooms where Tyler had had therapy before, Dr Wakefield's office was open and light and sophisticated.

All 4 walls were painted white and a high ceiling combined with several windows helped Tyler to feel relaxed no matter how claustrophobic his anxiety could make him feel at times. Plus the inclusion of several plants around the room helped it to feel calm and natural without being overpowering.

One wall was lined with 3 dark mahogany hardwood cases side to side, one filled with aesthetically pleasing old antique books and medical diaries that Tyler suspected haven't been read; the next had doors which opened into the cabinet where Dr Wakefield stored his box of fiddles amongst other thing; and finally a filing cabinet filled with notes on every patient. Tyler was surprised that he didn't have a cabinet just dedicated to him.  
A few pieces of art work also found homes on the walls, but thankfully there were no cliche quotes for Tyler to roll his eyes at.

In the space in the middle of the room, it was split in two levels by a single step. One side - where Tyler was pacing - contained two incredibly comfortable chairs and a low coffee table where the therapy was undertaken. The higher side had Dr Wakefield's great big antique mahogany desk and the door to the room.

Dr Wakefield reentered via the door, a glass of water in one hand and a coffee in the other.  
"You're up, great," he smiled as Tyler paced. "Want your water?"  
"M'fine," Tyler replied, so the doctor put the glass on the coffee table, then walked back up the step and leant against his desk once more.

"Ahhh, that's better," he sighed after taking his first sip, then he dug into his pocket and brought out two chocolate bars. "And a Kit Kat to top it off. Catch," the man said, throwing Tyler's to him. Tyler instinctively caught it, ergo uncrossing his hands from the top of his head.

"You watch the first game of the season at the weekend?"  
"Uh huh," Tyler nodded as he slowly walked over from the wall he was pacing along to the step in the middle of the room. He sat on it and fiddled with the Kit Kat wrapper for a moment before putting it down and going back to fiddling with the elastic bands instead.

"My grandkids want me to take them to watch one live soon, what do you reckon?" Dr Wakefield asked as he sat down next to Tyler with a slight groan, coffee still in his hand.  
"They uh, how old are they?"  
"Edward's 11, Luke's 9 and Hannah's 8."  
"Yeah go for it," Tyler nodded, taking one band from his wrist and instead playing with it between his fingers. "We um, Todd and I took William to a couple of the March Madness games and he loved it."  
"Yeah I remember you saying,"

"Will's not really, um, he's not massive on playing basketball, but he likes watching it."  
"He likes watching it with you Tyler. It's not about the game, it's about him spending time with you."  
"Hmm," Tyler hummed.  
"He still playing the piano?"  
"Yeah, practices every night."  
"Proud of him?"  
"Very," the younger nodded.  
"My granddaughter Hannah has just joined this um, this music orchestra club thing at her school and they assign everyone an instrument for the semester. She's got double bass. Trying to watch her mom put that thing in the car is hands down the best thing about living with them." Dr Wakefield chuckled before taking another sip of his coffee. They sat in silence for a minute before Tyler finally broke it.

"I count the days since he died because it's the only number that changes." He revealed quietly, and Dr Wakefield simply listened. "Nothing else changes. The number of days we had together. The amount of breakfasts we ate together. How many times we hugged and kissed and slept together. How many occasions he fixed the fridge for me when the water stopped working. How many times we said I love you."

"Why's it important that one changes?"  
"Guess I can focus on that rather than the fixed numbers."  
"And the fixed numbers?" Dr Wakefield prompted.  
"Regret."  
"Regret? What do you regret?"  
"Not getting the numbers higher before they stopped forever. I have no idea how many times I told him I love him but I know for a fact that it wasn't enough and I'll never be able to do it again."  
"Right," the man nodded, sipping his coffee.

"I love you is obviously a big deal, but every single thing we did together has a finite number and a last time and that's never going to be any different."  
"But is that a bad thing?"  
"Yes." Tyler said without hesitation.  
"Why?"  
"It's just, I uh, I dunno, doesn't matter," he back-pedalled, deciding he couldn't open up that deeply.

"Okay how about you give me an example instead? One where you know the number." Dr Wakefield helped him out.  
"Holidaying abroad."  
"And how many times did you do that?"  
"3,"  
"Where did you go on your last trip together?"  
"London,"  
"Do you feel okay telling me about it?"  
"I'd rather not talk about it; if you think I need to then I'll try but I know it'll be hard and I won't get very far." Tyler said honestly.  
"I think that we should talk about it one day, but not in today's session if you think it's going to be too hard. You've already tapped out once, let's not push our luck. However, I need you to start letting yourself think about him again. Now I know it's easier said than done, but can that be this week's goal? 10 minutes thinking about the London trip?"  
"Okay," Tyler whispered, weaving the elastic band between his fingers.  
"Obviously I can't check whether you've done it - I'm not going to ask you to write anything down or record it to prove to me that you did it, so it's a trust thing. I'm not even going to ask about it next week."  
"Okay,"  
"I think that doing this will help you Tyler. It's up to you whether you want to help yourself,"  
"I do," he nodded quietly.  
"Good." Dr Wakefield smiled before having more of his coffee and stretching out his legs in front of him.

"Can I ask a question?" Tyler asked nervously.  
"Of course,"  
"Do you, um, the numbers, do you think it's an OCD thing? Like a number fixation?"  
"No I don't think so, I think it's a mourning thing. Every single person without fail who I have spoken to about losing someone close has mentioned that magic word - regret."  
"Mmm," he listened closely.

"What does regret mean to you Tyler?"  
"Wishing I did things differently, feeling bad that I wasted the little time we had together."  
"So do you feel a sense of guilt?"  
"Absolutely,"  
"What would you say is more prominent and why, guilt or regret?"  
"Regret. I think um, I think I've worked on guilt quite a lot with you and in group sessions and also with my parents, so I've sort of accepted that it's not my fault that I am the way that I am. Like obviously I have rough days but mostly I understand that I can't feel guilty for what's out of my control. Whether that's my mental health or what happened to Josh."  
"Good,"

"Whereas regret is valid I think."  
"Why do you think that?"  
"Because there are things I could have done, when I was sick and when I was well, that would have made us both happier and yet I didn't do it." Tyler admitted, unable to make eye contact so instead staring at his feet stretched out in front of him. "Like when he came home from work and I was busy playing piano, I could have stopped mid-piece and hugged him but I didn't. Or when I was half asleep and he put a blanket on me, I could have said thank you but I didn't. And on a Saturday morning he would try to persuade me to stay in bed with him but I'd always wiggle out to go for a shower."  
"Mmm," Dr Wakefield listened, again waiting for Tyler to expand further.

"I wish I had taken him on more dates. He always always did the organisation for them, sometimes just small things like calling the restaurant to book a table, and sometimes planning these amazing days out doing things that I've always wanted to do ever since I was a little kid. It was always about me, him trying to make me happy. I wish I had taken the time to make him happy." Tyler said, wiping away a tear that he hadn't noticed until it ran down his face.  
"Tyler, Josh was happy. It might not have been the result of you planning some huge romantic gesture, but you definitely made Josh happy, he loved you."  
"I want more time to show him that I love him too." Tyler replied with more tears.

"Sorry, can I get my water a second," Tyler whispered a moment later.  
"Of course," Dr Wakefield answered as Tyler stood up shakily and wiped his face, then walked to the glass and took a small mouthful before slowly pacing back to the step. He remained standing up for a moment as he calmed himself down, then sat again and held the glass in both hands.

"Sometimes when I look back at our relationship, I can't remember a single thing I did to show him how important he was to me."  
"You lived for him Tyler. There's no greater gift than that. You've had to fight so hard and Josh was very aware and very appreciate of that fact."  
"Yeh," Tyler sniffed before taking a tearful sip of water.  
"And hey, you proposed didn't you?"  
"I did," he remembered with a slow breath out.

"He, he only ever told me he wanted 3 things. For us to get a cat, take a year travelling around Italy together, and have kids. And I couldn't cope with any of those." Tyler told the older man, before letting out a sob. He bit his top lip hard and squeezed his eyes closed tightly as he tried to hold them back despite knowing that it was useless.  
"Tyler don't bite through your lip, it's okay to just let them out." Dr Wakefield told him, and Tyler did.

"He told you those were 3 things he would like, but that doesn't mean they were the only things that would have made him happy. And you know the common thread running through all of those? You." He told Tyler as he cried. "He wanted to get a cat with you, wanted to spend time abroad in one of the most romantic countries in the world with you, and wanted to raise a child with you. It was him wanting to do things with you Tyler. Just like we said about William watching basketball with you earlier. It's not about the activity, it's about the company."  
"Need a sec," Tyler spluttered out, putting his glass of water down and pacing straight across the room with his hands on top of his head.

"Take as long as you need, and there's a box of tissues on the coffee table." Dr Wakefield told him, and Tyler nodded with his eyes scrunched as he paced. The doctor picked up his cup and Tyler's glass and placed them on his desk, then went and sat in the chairs where they had begun the session.

Tyler walked back and fourth, trying to regain control of his tears. Part of him was slightly relieved to have the emotional release after going so long without crying, but the other half was worried that the emotional floodgates had been opened and the next couple of days would be rough.

He stopped pacing and instead stood at the window and peered out, rubbing his teary eyes with the palms of his hands then crossing his arms and holding his breath. Every few seconds he would release the lungful and draw in another in an attempt to stop the sobs. For a few minutes they continued muffled through his lips, but eventually he was able to breathe normally again. With a final sigh, he wandered over to the table and cleaned himself up with the tissues, then cautiously sat down opposite Dr Wakefield.

"Okay?"  
"Okay," Tyler nodded.

"Tyler you've done really well today, and I know it might not feel like it after getting upset, but you showing that level of emotion is telling me that you've spoken about something very difficult. You've done a good job."  
"Thank you," Tyler whispered as he pulled apart the tissue between his fingers.  
"Do you want to finish there? We've got half an hour left, but if you've had enough then I can call a taxi for you."  
"I um, no, no I wanna do more," he decided with a shaky nod.  
"Alright Tyler, good lad, let's do more then."

 

 

Tyler didn't drive anymore. OCD made driving a nightmare and potentially very dangerous, the risk of hallucinating didn't help, but the main reason he didn't trust himself to be in charge of a vehicle was because he didn't trust the vehicles themselves. After all, they'd killed both Debby and Josh.

Although he preferred to get the train or to cycle, occasionally he could just about cope with sitting in the back of a car as long as he could completely zone out and forget that he was even there. Earphones were a must, the music didn't matter but the presence of sound did, and he either had to squeeze his eyes shut tightly or stare out of the window and hope that his imagination swooped in and filled his mind with pleasant thoughts. It was a slightly ambitious hope, especially after such an emotional session, and so Tyler had to remind himself to breathe on several occasions during the cab ride home.

The taxi driver had barely pulled to a stop before he jumped out the back, relieved to finally have his feet in the ground again and be so close to his home. He paid the fee, waved him off, turned his music off and wrapped his earphones up before walking down the path to his and Todd's house.

"T, William, I'm home!" He called out and shut and locked the door behind him before hearing the pattering of feet running down the hall. He span on his heels and grinned when he saw William racing towards him with his arms outstretched carrying something.

"Pop!"  
"Hey littleman," Tyler smiled, dropping his bag by the door then scooping him up and lifting him onto his hip. "What have you got here?"  
"I made it! It's a pipe cleaner man." He showed off the mess of fluffy twisted wires, that was admittedly rather cute.  
"Oh wow, that's awesome! Has he got a name?"  
"Bob."  
"Hello Bob." Tyler said to the creation whilst carrying his stepson into the kitchen.

"My name's Todd, but you're getting closer," Todd teased from the stove as they entered, then wiped his hands on a cloth and met them in the middle of the room, gently placing his palm on the back of Tyler's neck and kissing him.  
"Gross," William complained and squirmed out of Tyler's grip, going back to his pipe cleaners on the table whilst the men laughed.

"Let's try that again," Todd decided and kissed Tyler another time, this time letting his lips linger before pulling him into a hug and murmuring into his ear discreetly. "How did it go?"  
"It, uh, it was heavy,"  
"And how are you feeling now?"  
"I think I'm okay."  
"Do you want to eat dinner with us or do you wanna go to bed already?"  
"No I'll be alright eating thanks,"  
"Okay babe, proud of you," Todd hummed then kissed him quickly on the cheek before releasing the hug.

Whilst Todd went back to stirring the pot simmering away on the stove, and William went back to twisting his pipe cleaners together, Tyler started getting out the cutlery from the drawer. He only had to get out 3 sets, and he was proud of the fact that he managed it without hesitation. He'd come a long way with his OCD, in fact he had come along way period. Despite the emotional therapy session he had just endured, in general he was a far happier and far more fulfilled person that he had ever dreamt of being after Josh's death.

Although it was true that Todd wasn't as able to calm and settle him as Josh had been, that was because he didn't have the experience, and he didn't have the experience of calming Tyler down because Tyler was happier now and far healthier too. He didn't need another man who was part therapist, he didn't need another Josh. He needed a Todd, a man that sometimes unknowingly pushed him into uncomfortable situations that ultimately helped Tyler realise that they didn't have to be uncomfortable because he was healthy enough to cope now. He needed a Todd.

"Pop, do you maybe want to make a pipe cleaner man too with me?!"

Oh yes, and he needed a William too.

"Yeah absolutely I do! Although I've never done it before, will you show me how?"  
"Yeah!"


End file.
